The Phoenix Wright Kink Meme Collection
by Dot Warner
Summary: Deliveries made via the mind of one somewhat twisted writer. And yes, this means I am the anon who wrote these stories.
1. PW MGS 2

Title: Otacon and the Phoenix Wright Kink Meme

Series: MGS/PW

Warnings: Implied Otacon/Snake

Original at: teagueful./26058.html?thread8833994#t8833994

* * *

Dave threw a pillow in the general direction of the infernal rapid typing noises that always seemed to accompany Hal. "Go to sleep already."

"In a minute, I just want to finish--"

"Whatever." Dave turned over and kept sleeping.

* * *

Hal let out the breath that he'd been holding and shuffled to the far side of the room where he wouldn't accidentally wake Dave with his typing. As much as he gave Dave a hard time about his drinking, he had to admit he had become an addict of the internet, especially the new "kink meme" he'd discovered.

He quickly skimmed what he had already written to find where he had last left off, then resumed the work on his masterpiece.

_Narumitsu Fluff 5/? Longfic is Loooooooong,_

Naruhodo was first to wake, running his fingers through Mitsurugi's fine silver locks and relishing the sensation...

* * *

_Unnecessarily Long and Tiresome Authoress' Notes:_  
Because Otacon totally writes for the kink meme and uses the original Japanese names because he got an import DS.


	2. Silent Hill PW

Title: Dog Ending, Anyone?

Series: Silent Hill/PW

Warnings: Dog Ending. What else can I say?

Original at: teagueful./24505.html?thread6150841#t6150841

* * *

He followed the faint sound of music forward, keeping one hand on the wall as his footsteps echoed down the hallway that must have stretched down, down, down forever.

The sudden increase in light blinded him as he was not quite quick enough to shield his eyes. He gripped his weapon tighter, ready to strike at whatever was on the other side of the doorway.

He saw the machines first. The elaborate command center took up the entire far wall, an impressive display of screens, flashing lights, buttons, and levers. On each screen was a scene from the hellish town he was certain he would never be able to escape from, tiny reminders of his inept bumbling through the nightmare that was Silent Hill.

A soft creak caught his attention to the occupant of the ergonomic chair in front of the machines. He blinked as he took in the short brown fur, the curly tail, and the off-white cravat gracing the creature's neck.

He made a noise in his throat that may have been laughter. It was official. He had gone completely and irrevocably insane.

A freaking _dog_ was responsible for this nonsense?

* * *

_Unnecessarily Long and Tiresome Authoress' Notes:_

I kept the "he" ambiguous so you guys can fill in the blanks, but I am implying that Pess is the dog.


	3. L&O PW

Title: Will You Stop It With the 'Chung Chung'?

Series: Law & Order/PW

Warnings: None.

Original at: teagueful./31002.html?thread8973338#8973338

* * *

Edgeworth leaped to his feet, his face almost purple with rage, looking like he was ready to throw his DS across the room. "OBJECTION!" He roared, causing the in-game lawyer to echo his sentiment. "What do you mean, the evidence is inadmissible?"

Phoenix looked up from playing _Tetris_. "Stuck again, Edgeworth?"

Edgeworth grunted in frustration and loaded from a previous save. "This game is impossible. Even when I _know_ I have an airtight case the defense manages to get off on some stupid _technicality_."

Phoenix snickered. "Welcome to my world."

Edgeworth rolled his eyes and returned to his seat. "Oh, laugh it up, Wright. It's not like you do that much better."

Phoenix shrugged. "So? The point of the game isn't to get a guilty verdict, but to find out what happened." He turned his attention back to his own game. "Besides, half of the fun is seeing how the interaction between all of the characters play out."

Edgeworth smirked at this. "Ah, so you _do_ have a crush on District Attorney McCoy."

Phoenix flushed red. "I do not!"

"Sure you don't. And that wasn't you dancing and crowing 'Eyebrows of Justice strike again!' when you finally finished the first game."

* * *

_Unnecessarily Long and Tiresome Authoress' Notes:_

I love Phoenix Wright, but it suffers from the translators attempting to localize the game without also localizing the law system. (In the east, a suspect is generally guilty until proven innocent and the prosecution is given a lot more leeway in what they do, and thus the game makes a whole heck of a lot more sense.)


	4. Franzy Does Porn

Title: Franzy Does Porn

Series: PW3...ish?

Warnings: Adult themes and language

Original at: teagueful./31002.html?thread9273626#t9273626

* * *

"Home at last, I see."

The keys fell from Franziska's trembling hands. She could always read Miles like a book, and at the moment his face just about screamed 'I Know What You Did'. "Little brother," she began, trying to work up the courage to at least fake her usual demeanor.

"Do not 'little brother' me, _sister dearest_." Miles held up the DVD case as if he were presenting a particularly damning piece of evidence in court. "And before you try to protest your innocence, I have done my research. I am able to prove, without a doubt, that it is you who have starred in this--" His eyes narrow. "--so-called 'production'."

Franziska felt her face grow warm. "I--that is--"

"Was it worth it, sister dearest? Was it worth debasing yourself like this as some sort of misguided revenge against your father?" Miles was looming over her now, his voice a terrifying echo of the one he used to badger hostile witnesses. "Dare I ask what you were thinking? Or perhaps you were not thinking at all?"

"Oh, forget it, Edgeworth," Wright's voice came from behind her. "You're just pissed off that Larry said 'Dude, your sister is HOT!'"

Franziska blushed all the way to the roots of her hair as Miles sputtered with incoherent rage. "What is that f-fool Wright doing here?" she demanded, her rising anger a relief from the profound sense of shame that was flooding her.

Wright wagged a finger at her. "Saving you from Mr. Stick-up-His-Ass here, of course." He grabbed her by the wrist. "Come on, let's get out of here before Edgeworth realizes that we're trying to make a break for it."

Franziska let out a startled cry as Wright pulled her off balance, causing her to careen into his arms. Too surprised to react, she let him guide her back out of her apartment and onto the streets below.

"Where are you taking me?" She managed to ask, trying to peer over his shoulder to see whether Miles was giving chase.

"No idea," was the cheerful confession. "I figure all we need to do is outrun Miles until he calms down."

"WHAT?" Franziska screeched, causing Wright to wince. "Are you insane? Miles was the best sprinter in his class! He's going to kill us both!"

"You're kidding."

"Do I look to be in the mood for jokes?"

"...crap. We're doomed, aren't we?"

* * *

_Unnecessarily Long and Tiresome Authoress' Notes:_

According to the fanon of Phoenix Wright, not only is Miles Edgeworth built like a linebacker, but he moves like one.


	5. Springtime of Youth

Title: Springtime of Youth

Series: PW

Warnings: None

Original at: teagueful./31002.html?thread9437210#t9437210

* * *

Edgeworth looked terrible.

Well, all right, so most of the time his expression made Phoenix wonder whether something crawled up his ass and died, but today the man looked positively miserable, his eyes bloodshot and his face scrunched in an expression that couldn't be comfortable.

Phoenix was about to ask what the matter was when Edgeworth removed a frilly pink--no matter how much Edgeworth objected that it was "wine-colored", Phoenix could never see it as anything other thank pink--cloth and sneezed into it several times in rapid succession. Phoenix stared as Edgeworth almost seemed to explode into the handkerchief over and over again until Phoenix lost count.

"Bless you," Phoenix managed as Edgeworth wiped his eyes with the other side of the handkerchief.

"Shut up, Wright. I don't need your pity."

Phoenix waited until he was down the hall before answering back. "At least I didn't suggest you wear a dust mask!" He shouted, and then took flight.

* * *

_Unnecessarily Long and Tiresome Authoress' Notes:_

The title is a pun. The Springtime of Youth is, of course, that time when a young man's thoughts turn to flights of fancy.


	6. Udgey Here to Save the Day

Title: Udgey Here to Save the Day

Series: PW, end of 1-4

Warnings: Spoiler for 1-4, violence

Original at: teagueful./35657.html?thread9603401#t9603401

* * *

"I WILL BURY YOU!" Was the only warning Edgeworth got before von Karma lunged from the Prosecution's desk towards either Wright or himself, he could not quite tell.

_I can't let him hurt Wright_, was all Edgeworth could think as he moved.

All he knew next was that in a split second he and Wright were in each other's arms and then the Judge was standing over von Karma's unconscious form, twirling the gavel in his hands like a club.

"Bailiff, if you would, please," the Judge requested, dusting off his robe and returning to his seat. "And would the defendant and his lawyer kindly remove themselves from each other? It's rather unbecoming."

Edgeworth blushed as red as his suit as he complied, and he swore he could hear the Fey girl giggling behind his back.

* * *

_Unnecessarily Long and Tiresome Authoress' Notes:_

Short and silly, because I felt like it.


	7. Incident at the Tres Bien

Title: Incident at the Tres Bien

Series: Post PW4

Warnings: Crossdressing, implied Phoenix/Edgeworth and Apollo/Klavier

Original at: teagueful./35657.html?thread9612617#t9612617

* * *

Stop gaping, Apollo. And do close your mouth, you're not a fish.

So you want to know how I got myself in this mess, huh?

Well, the short version of it is my past caught up to me.

The long version--it's gonna take a while. Have a seat and order something, would you? I'll give you a special Defense Attorney's discount.

Oh, don't blush and stammer like that. People will get the wrong idea, especially a certain rock-star.

* * *

Phoenix knew he was in Deep Shit when a certain ruffled prosecutor, his whip-happy sister, and a white-haired man with a mask that looked like something out of a science fiction film (of course I knew Prosecutors Edgeworth, von Karma, and Godot; it's all in the Court Record, read the lurid details yourself when you get back to court) sauntered into the bar. Edgeworth parked himself directly across from Phoenix on the other side of the piano, Franziska sat to his left, and Godot leaned casually against the bar on his right.

"Wow, this reminds me of a joke I heard once," Phoenix managed to deadpan, but inside he could feel a cold sweat building. He turned his attention to Godot first, because of all those there Phoenix considered him the least predictable. "Aren't you supposed to be in prison?"

"It's called parole on the account of good behavior, kitten." Except then Godot leaned forward and leered at him. "Of course, I make no guarantees on whether I'll behave myself tonight."

"Disappearing on me like that for seven years, before I could have a proper rematch," Franziska spoke next, prodding Phoenix's shoulder with the handle of her whip. "Evidently you are as suicidal as you are foolish."

Miles was next, pushing his glasses to the top of his face in a gesture all too reminiscent of Kristoph. "You could have at least left us a note. Even something like 'Phoenix Wright chooses death' would have been better than no news at all."

_How--_ Phoenix almost asked, and then quickly thought better of it. His name was plastered all of the news these days. Of course they knew. Hell, Klavier probably told them where to find him, that backstabbing little ingrate. (Calm down, Polly, it's nothing like that. I was the one who talked him into confessing his feelings for you. He's actually pretty shy for a rock star. Yeah, surprised me, too.)

Anyway, figuring that he may as well get it over with, Phoenix just drew his hat over his eyes as he was accustomed to doing nowadays and mumbled an apology.

The Prosecutors Three spoke, once again doing so in turn. They must have rehearsed this many times, played out all of Phoenix's possible reactions.

Godot. "I'm afraid 'I'm sorry' isn't going to cut it. You, my dear kitten, need to be punished."

Franziska. "And you need a shave and a better wardrobe than this ridiculous hooligan. Even your old foolish blue suit looked better."

Miles. "And you will find a more respectable--and legal--job than a poker-playing pianist. You cheat at poker, and you suck at the piano."

"What did you expect me to do?" Phoenix shot back at that last jab, glaring now. "Nobody would hire me," he almost wants to stand up and punch Miles as the other man is about to give a smug retort, "and no, that French freak who runs the Restaurant From Hell doesn't count." (If you think this place is bad now, you should have seen it when I was a lawyer. I came down with food poisoning eating from here once. Last time I ever ordered anything until the owner finally caved and got a halfway competent cook.)

"Why not, Trite?" Godot was grinning as well. "I think you would look adorable in that uniform."

Franziska, too, had the look of a cat that was about to devour a canary. "Yes, I think that would be an acceptable change of clothing."

Miles was next. "How about this, Wright. Since Mr. Armando needs a job as well, and I'm not up for any speaking tours any time soon, we'll all apply together, and if either me or Coffee Addict here quit or get fired, you're off the hook?"

Phoenix should have realized then and there that this was a trap. But the thought of the two male prosecutors in that frilly pink dress-and-apron getup was a mental image he could not dismiss easily. He put on his poker face and stuck out his hand. "It's a deal."

* * *

Phoenix slumped in the small rest area where Miles was already sipping tea and Godot catching up on the day's news. "My feet are killing me," he groaned. "God, even in court I got to sit down more than this."

"Have the world's smallest violin," Miles replied, and took another sip.

This was when Phoenix noticed Miles' sitting position. He reacted out of instinct, slapping the too-short skit down to cover what was left of Miles' dignity. "Jesus Christ, mind your posture! Even Godot over there has the good sense to cross his legs!"

Miles shrugged. "We're all men here, Phoenix." Now he looked up and smirked at him. "Or are you trying to tell me something?"

* * *

So of course Miles and I ended up making out and of course Jean walked in on us. We would have quit then and there, because he wouldn't stop glittering about "true love" and all that nonsense, but Godot took pictures and blackmailed us into hanging around until he could have enough work experience under to find a better job--although, between you and me, I think he gets off and watching me suffer--

Whoops, gotta get back to work. Say hi to Trucy for me, would you? And let her know Daddy might be home late. Don't worry, I'll call her myself once I'm off the clock, but I figure she'd appreciate a visit from her favorite big brother, too.

No, I'll never let you hear the end of it. What else is family for?

* * *

_Unnecessarily Long and Tiresome Authoress' Notes:_

Based on a dojinshi picture of GS3-era Phoenix, Miles, and Godot in the Tres Bien uniform, Miles sitting with his legs spread and Phoenix looking very embarrassed about it. I muddled about with the timeline to make it post GS4 in an attempt to make the plot a bit more logical, because I like doing that despite the nonsensical nature of both Phoenix Wright and the fandom.


	8. At Death's Doorstep

Title: On Death's Doorstep

Series: PW, post Case 1-2 (Turnabout Sisters)

Warnings: Darkish.

Original link: teagueful./35657.html?thread9653321#t9653321

* * *

Surprise. A moment of, what was that term, "serves that little bitch right" gloating.

And then, disappointment.

Really, a lamp to the head, by the man who was blackmailing her boss? There was some poetic justice in that, I suppose, but from what I heard she didn't even put up a fight. Just "WHAM BAM (thank you, ma'am? Juvenile, yes, but so very fitting)" and Mia Fey left the bounds of this world.

You always had it too easy, Mia. You never really had to work for anything, not once. There was always the Main Branch, or your dearest Mother, or that sweet, sweet boyfriend of yours.

And Feenie--did you cry, Feenie? Or will you save your tears for when they lead me down that hallway into the little room and put a hood over my head before they slip the rope around my neck and pull the lever?

You won't escape me so easily, neither of you. I'll have my revenge. You'll see.

I look forward to meeting you in the afterlife, cousin of mine.

* * *

_Unnecessarily Long and Tiresome Authoress' Notes:_

Finding my inner Dahlia was surprisingly easy. Should I be worried?


	9. Close One Chapter, Open the Next

Title: Close One Chapter, Open the Next

Series: Post PW3-ish

Warnings: Spoilers for PW4

Original link: teagueful./35657.html?thread9676361#t9676361

* * *

"Come with me if you want to live."

Phoenix blinked at the diminutive young woman who had walked up to his office and pronounced the grave announcement, then laughed. "Oh, I get it." He whipped out a pen and grabbed a fresh sheet of his notepad. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. Bonus points for not squealing or gushing." He signed his name with a flourish. "So, who should I make this out to?"

She shook her head. "I don't need your autograph." She held out her hand to him. "_Please_, Mr. Wright. I'm here to save you."

Phoenix looked at the sincerity in her eyes and decided that he should at least hear out her story. "Close the door and have a seat, would you?"

* * *

Phoenix was silent as she explained--well, not so much explained as hedged and made vague allusions, but Phoenix could put two and two together once she opened up and told him more about the future she was trying to prevent.

"But, in the end, everything turns out fine, right?" he asked as she finished. "I mean, except for the whole me turning into a hobo."

She froze up, eyes wide, and was about to protest when she gave it deeper thought and deflated. "I--I guess so. They got the bad guy, and the little girl found her family again."

Phoenix mulled this over. Then, he smiled at the young woman, having some idea of who she was now. "And would that little girl really want to give up everything, just so I could still be a lawyer?"

"Yes!" She shouted, at the verge of tears now. Though Phoenix fixed her with a stern look, she pressed on: "What about your friends, Mr. Wright? What about Mr. Edgeworth!"

This did give Phoenix pause, but only for a brief while. "He's my friend. And he's stronger than he gives himself credit for. He'll handle it just fine." He ran a hand through his hair, chuckling. "Hell, he might even enjoy being the one to save me."

She played with the edge of her shirt. "You--you're not going to change the future, even if you know it?"

Phoenix shrugged. "I don't know. It hasn't happened to me yet." He reached across the couch and brushed a tear from her cheek. "But--thanks for the heads up. I appreciate it. I really do."

She shook her head. "No, thank _you_, P--Mr. Wright." She rose, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "I guess this is goodbye, then."

"Yeah. Until we meet again."

* * *

Phoenix toyed with the corner of the paper. All he had to do was hold onto it and everything would be different, though Zak would probably still disappear on him. Maybe he would even be able to track down the forger before the "bad guy" (it had to be Kristoph, as much as the thought horrified Phoenix; something dark and disturbing lurked behind Kristoph's smile, something that reminded Phoenix of Dahlia) could.

Or, maybe the future wasn't meant to be changed. Maybe he would still end up on the street (hell, he was already heading in that direction, given how little he was paid and how much living in Los Angeles cost him). At least this way he could meet all those wonderful people the young woman (and here Phoenix realizes that she could have been none other than dear little Trucy, by God she is so beautiful when she grows up) told him about, and maybe, as she obliquely suggested, even start changing the legal system back to what it should be: "innocent until proven guilty", as it was in the old days before things went pear-shaped.

Phoenix closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and presented the diary page.

Take that, future.

* * *

_Unnecessarily Long and Tiresome Authoress' Notes:_

As much as it sucked for Phoenix to present the forged diary page, what I really wanted to do was to punch him in the face for presenting the wrong ace. WTF, hobo, WTF!


	10. Something Holy

Title: Something Holy

Request: What if Edgeworth joined the priesthood between PW3 and PW4?

Warnings: None

Original Link: teagueful./35657.html?thread10363721#t10363721

* * *

Phoenix had never been a religious person, but there was something calming about being in a cathedral. At least in here it was quiet and he could maybe even take a quick nap in the confessional.

He was just contemplating this when he heard someone enter the other side and pronounce the Peace of God (or whatever) on him. "Ah, sorry, I was just thinking."

"Stay for a moment, my son. Perhaps you have some burdens you would like to get off your chest."

"No, it's not necessary," Phoenix lied through his teeth. "I'm not a Catholic anyway, so I don't think that'd work."

"God works in mysterious ways, my son."

Phoenix shrugged. "Maybe so, maybe not. But I'd really rather not divulge my deepest secrets to a random stranger just because he wears a collar, especially not after that whole altar boy thing."

"I will have you know some of us men of the cloth still actually care about serving God." A significant pause lapsed, and Phoenix would swear later that he could almost hear the man smile. "Besides, I am hardly a random stranger, _Phoenix Wright_."

It dawned on Phoenix why the voice on the other side of the partition sounded so familiar. "Edgeworth?"

"_Father_ Edgeworth, if you please."

* * *

They continued the conversation in the chapel proper, seated about three rows back from the front pew.

Phoenix regarded his friend's new wardrobe. "Of all the places I thought you'd end up--why this?"

"I have been a Catholic all my life. It just seemed the natural thing to do."

"Really? I never thought Manfred to be the fire-and-brimstone type."

Edgeworth shrugged. "He seemed devout enough on the outside for my father to make him my godfather. And he never missed a Mass, not even the Latin ones."

That explained so much about Edgeworth that Phoenix couldn't believe he didn't realize this earlier. "Geez, man."

Edgeworth clicked his tongue. "Please refrain from taking the Lord's name in vain, Wright. I worry enough about you as it is."

Phoenix chuckled. "If I'm going to hell, then I've got a long line of people ahead of me."

Edgeworth shook his head. "I have little intention of proselytizing to you anyway. I just wanted to talk, as friends."

"What's there to talk about? Sure, being disbarred sucks, but I think I ended up with the better end of the deal." Phoenix smirked at Edgeworth. "Beats running away and joining a convent, in my humble opinion."

* * *

_Unnecessarily Long and Tiresome Authoress' Notes:_  
This feels like a weird place to end it, but I've kind of fizzled out at this point. I may revisit this later, but don't count on it.


	11. Culture Shock

Title: Culture Shock  
Request: Phoenix learns about kancho. (Underlined text is Japanese.)  
Warnings: Implied Mitsurugi/Naruhodo.  
Original Link: teagueful./17966.html?thread10471470#t10471470

* * *

Of everybody around Phoenix, Edgeworth took the discovery the easiest.

Why wouldn't Phoenix have a portal to an alternate dimension in his closet, Edgeworth reasoned. After all, it really wasn't all that stranger than anything else that tended to happen around them.

Once he put it that way, the two worlds integrated without much of a hitch.

Of course, the language barrier remained problematic. Only Mitsurugi Reiji (Edgeworth's Japanese counterpart) and Karuma Mei (Franziska) spoke fluent English, so when he wasn't around to translate there would be much fumbling about with dictionaries and wild gesticulations. Eventually Phoenix decided to buy himself a white board so he could just draw what he was trying to get across.

The time zone difference was another. His other self's apartment being in Japan meant that his new roommates were always somewhere around eight hours ahead (or was that behind? Phoenix could never remember) of them. What's more, Ryuichi had gotten much farther with Mitsurugi than Phoenix could ever dream of being with Edgeworth--Phoenix learned to knock, loudly, each time before he dropped by for a visit.

Then there was that afternoon when Harumi (Pearls) dropped by for a visit, and Phoenix was stuck babysitting her while Mayoi (Maya) went to buy them all dinner and Ryuichi took a shower.

* * *

Ryuichi had the presence of mind to wrap a towel around when he heard a loud, indignant "WHAT THE FUCK!"--his command of the English language was atrocious, but he knew _that_ phrase--explode from the living room.

"What is--" Ryuichi bit his lip and tried to remember how to render his question in a manner Raito-san would understand. "What happen?"

Raito-san, however, was too busy pushing himself against the back wall of the living room, staring at Harumi-chan in wide-eyed horror. The little girl in question was also on the verge of tears, so Ryuchi decided to console her first.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! I thought Raito-san was you, Ryu-ojii!" Harumi-chan mumbled as Ryuchi carefully knelt down to her level.

"It's all right, Harumi-chan," he reassured her, ruffling her hair. "Just tell me the truth."

Five minutes later, Ryuichi found himself calling Mitsurugi, because there was no way he could explain this in a way that made any sense.

* * *

Five _more_ minutes later, Phoenix dragged Edgeworth over and demanded that Mitsurugi repeat the explanation.

Edgeworth, to his irritation, was not disturbed in the least. "You woke me after a long, exhausting day in court so I could learn about 'kancho'? And what made you think I didn't know about this already?"

"And you think there's nothing wrong with _little children_ thinking this is a game--" Phoenix blinked. "What do you mean you already knew?"

"You forget that I'm very well traveled, Wright. I was in Japan for a business trip last year and my host family's son asked me to accompany him to show-and-tell." Edgeworth looked embarrassed for a moment, but he soon recovered. "After my first 'objection', his classmates didn't dare come anywhere near me."

Mitsurugi chuckled. "It is rather startling, yes, but I figure that the less of a big deal we make of it, the quicker they'll grow out of it."

Phoenix wasn't convinced. "So what was with Harumi-chan yelling 'surprise buttsex' at the same time, then?"

This time, Mitsurugi flushed deep red. "I tried to warn Naruhodo that it wasn't a good idea to give her a laptop with wireless internet access."

* * *

_Unnecessarily Long and Tiresome Authoress' Notes:_  
One of the cases where reality is actually stranger than fiction, IMHO.  



	12. Viva Las Vegas

Title: Viva Las Vegas  
Request: Crime Scene Investigators/Phoenix Wright crossover.  
Warnings: None.  
Original Link: teagueful./35657.html?thread10499913#t10499913

* * *

Ema started it.

She heard of the Forensics Investigators Convention and begged Edgeworth nonstop to help her get there. When he refused, she pointed out that technically he still owed her for almost putting Lana in prison. When Edgeworth tried to object that it was not his fault, she simply popped a Snackoo in her mouth, grinned, and said: "SL-9."

Gumshoe couldn't be talked out of going along because somebody had to protect Mr. Edgeworth, sir, and even though Mr. Edgeworth considered him a screwup and was always docking his pay, sir, it wasn't like the police department could spare someone else at the moment, sir, and so on and so forth until Mr. Edgeworth caved and agreed to this, if only to stop Gumshoe from rambling on forever.

Wright...Edgeworth had a sneaking suspicion Wright wasn't as lucky has he claimed to be, because Wright mysteriously appeared with complimentary tickets to Vegas, complete with full room and board, and chose as his three other companions the two Fey cousins and Larry. When Edgeworth snarked at Wright, wondering out loud who he slept with to get such a deal, Wright just chuckled sheepishly.

And of course once Franziska heard about this, she insisted that she chaperon the group to make sure no foolishness took place. They were, after all, supposed to be the epitome of perfection.

Edgeworth stepped into the plane and tried desperately to pretend this was not a complete disaster waiting to happen.

* * *

Grissom was about to ask Greg if he had a long lost sister when Greg let out one of his patented fanboy squeals. "Oh my God, Grissom, that's _Miles Edgeworth_!"

Grissom blinked. "Who?" Except instead of launching into one of his usual rambling explanations, Greg had already crossed the room, and he found himself facing the gushing young lady who had all but assaulted him and demanded his autograph. He couldn't get one word in edgewise as the young lady went on and on about how much she admired his work and how he was his inspiration, peppered in with little mini-speeches about the Power of Science (Grissom could almost hear the capitalization in the way she spoke about it).

It was at this time that his phone rang, and he finally managed to silence her by holding up one finger to answer it.

"Hey, Gris?" Even with his hearing restored, it was difficult to make out Nick's voice above the din on the other side of the line.

"What is it?"

"You see a guy with spiky hair and a blue suit from where you are? Or maybe a tall, frilly dude wearing pink?"

Grissom scanned the room. "As a matter of fact, Greg is fawning over the 'tall, frilly dude' as we speak. Why?"

"Great! See, there's these two girls with me, they must have gotten separated from their group but their cell phone has terrible reception--"

Grissom sighed. Why was it that everybody on his team had the penchant for information dumping? "Spare me the explanations, Nick. You know where I am?"

"Yeah. I'll be right over."

* * *

Nick Stokes flipped his phone closed and grinned at the two girls. "See? Easy as pie."

The younger one hugged him. "Thanks, Other Mr. Nick!"

The older one hesitated, and in the end settled for a polite bow. "Yeah, now we just have to find our Nick somehow." She peered around, biting her lip. "He's got a terrible sense of direction."

"Let's get you two back to your friends first," Nick suggested. "Stay close to me, all right?"

"No problem, Other Mr. Nick!"

* * *

"Lost your tour group?"

Phoenix swore his feet left the ground as he jumped. He grins sheepishly at the (quite attractive, he had to admit) woman who addressed him. "I look that obvious, huh?"

She flicked him a half-lidded smile and Phoenix's heart twinged a little when he saw an echo of Mia in that look. "Sweetie, you may as well have a giant neon sign flashing over your head that reads 'tourist' in large, capital letters." And in the space of her step she had taken him by the hand. "Now, do you remember where came in at all, or would you like me to walk you to the information booth and make an announcement for you?"

* * *

One set of mutual introductions later, just about everyone was chatting as if they were old friends (in Brass' case, this was actually true--he and the detective from Los Angeles were catching up with each other over some light beer). Grissom, for his part, just stood to the side and let the more outgoing members of his team go at it.

Edgeworth, too, elected to watch them talk, and Grissom had a feeling the other man felt just as out of place. "I must apologize," he began.

Grissom shook his head. "No, it's fine. I take it this kind of thing happens a lot to your group, too."

"Mm." A pause, and then: "I am looking to reopen some of my old cases. I could use your expertise."

Grissom raised an eyebrow when he saw Edgeworth's gaze drop, but he made no comment about it. "I don't think your people would like that. We're not a Federal lab, and we wouldn't have any kind of jurisdiction unless the criminal originated from Las Vegas and committed crimes here first."

"I would bring you in as a third-party consultant, of course." Edgeworth's fists clenched. "_Please._ If I do not speak for these people, I fear that no one will."

Grissom mulled this over for a moment before handing Edgeworth his card. "Call me when you get back home. I'll see what I can do."

Edgeworth accepted with a nod. "Thank you."

* * *

Omake: "It's Lieutenant Dan!" Pearl tugged on Phoenix's sleeve so hard she almost pulled a button off. "Look, look, Mr. Nick!"

"Ah, no, Pearls, Lieutenant Dan is a character in a movie played by an actor. This man is a detective, like Mr. Gumshoe."

Pearl tilted her head, not quite convinced. "Really?"

"Really."

* * *

Maya watched Alexx work, her eyes glittering in rapt attention. "So do they really talk to you?" She wondered.

"In a way, yes." Alexx pointed out some scuff marks on the body's knuckles. "See these wounds? They tell me this young man tried to fight back before he was taken down." She checked the fingers and found some material trapped under the nails. "And he got a piece of whoever he was tangling with, too."

"Ooh," Maya breathed. "That's almost as cool as--" She was about to say 'channeling', but trailed off as she saw Phoenix making frantic 'ixnay' signs at her. "--almost as cool as what Nick does!" She amended.

Meanwhile, Horatio found himself humoring the younger Fey sister by removing his glasses and putting them back on repeatedly.

"Again! Again!" She cheered, clapping her hands.

"Uh, H, shouldn't we get them back to the lab and take their statements?" Delko wondered.

"Do you see anybody who's not done gathering evidence?"

"...you?" Delko raised his hands in a defensive gesture when Horatio leveled a glare at him. "I'll get back to work."

"You do that, Eric, you do that."

* * *

_Unnecessarily Long and Tiresome Authoress' Notes:_  
...and I ran out of steam. Sorry. 


	13. Count von Karma

Title: Count von Karma

Request: What if von Karma was a vampire?

Warnings: None

Original link: teagueful./35657.html?thread11013961#t11013961

* * *

Edgeworth stared. And stared. And stared. "Wright. Please tell me we are hallucinating."

Wright was doing a perfect impression of a fish. "Okay. We're hallucinating."

But Manfred von Karma was still standing behind the glass, still cackling like a madman: "Two lawyers coming to visit me. Two. TWO! A-HA-HA!"

(Both lawyers would swear later that they heard lighting crackle in the distance.)

Neither man noticed that an embarrassed Franziska had joined them. She sighed. "Father has been like this for as long as I can remember. He was able to control himself in public, but..."

"_Three_ lawyers. Three. THREE! A-HA-HA!"

Franziska flushed to the roots of her hair. "It is so humiliating! Why could he not have been bitten by a normal vampire like anyone else visiting Transylvania?"

* * *

Unnecessarily Long and Tiresome Authoress' Notes:


	14. Sometimes

Title: Sometimes

Request: Recurring Nightmares hurt/comfort

Warnings: None

Original link: teagueful./38756.html?thread11285860#t11285860

* * *

Sometimes, he stumbles into his old office and sees Mia slumped against the back wall, legs akimbo, and quite dead. Sometimes, he arrives too late to stop Redd White from driving the Thinker statue into her skull.

Sometimes, he is trapped in the detention center, and a parade of people pass by on the other side of the glass: his friends, his enemies, even his clients. Sometimes, he _is_ the client.

Sometimes, he is in the courtroom, attempting to make his closing statement while von Karma waited, taser in hand, to leap on any mistake or inconsistency, no matter how minor. Sometimes, he had to do this while naked.

Sometimes, he is in the Bar, playing poker with Kristoph or Zak, losing every hand and dying in the process. Sometimes, he _wins_.

Sometimes, he wakes in a cold sweat and spends the remainder of the night staring at the ceiling rather than settling back into an uneasy sleep. Sometimes, Trucy is the one who wakes with a bad dream and rocks her and pretends to be strong, because he was supposed to be the pillar holding up her world.

Sometimes--almost never--he just sleeps, and wakes, and goes along with the rest of his day as if nothing was wrong with him.

Sometimes, he does not sleep at all.

* * *

Unnecessarily Long and Tiresome Authoress' Notes:

The original requester asked for a pairing, but I was more inspired by this depressing take.


	15. Behind the Scenes

Title: Behind the Scenes  
Request: What is the cast like after the "cameras" stop rolling?  
Warnings: None  
Original Link: teagueful./38756.html?thread12550244#t12550244

* * *

She staggered backwards, clutching at her head. "MIA FEY! **MIA FEY!** _**MIA FEEEEEEEY!**_"

A single, airy "fwoomp!" signaled that she had made a safe landing on the air cushion situated behind the witness stand.

"Cut! Great job, everybody! All we need are a couple more takes and we're done for the day."

Miles helped Dahlia back to her feet and handed her a bottle of water, giving her a kiss on the cheek in the process. "You were _amazing_, sweetie. Gave me chills down my back and everything."

She gulped down a good third of the bottle before flashing a mischievous grin. "Just your back?"

Phoenix sat down and kicked off his shoes, nursing his aching feet. "Oh, get a room, you two!"

Dahila made a face at him. "Jealous, 'Feenie'?"

Phoenix scoffed. "_Please._ If anything, I'd say _you_ were, draping yourself all over Edgeworth after every scene as if you needed to mark your territory or something. I may be, as you put it so nicely, 'gayer than a cherry garden in springtime', but I can also tell the difference between acting and reality."

Miles rested a hand on Dahlia's shoulder before another argument could break out; she and Phoenix never got along between takes, and when a relationship blossomed between Edgeworth and Dahlia things just got worse. "You ladies can have your epic catfight after we're done. Right now let's just catch our breaths."

"Easy for you to say," Maya grumbled. She was, at least until the big reveal, body doubling for 'Iris', the scenes were the two 'twins' (both played by Dahlia) were in the same shot together being too brief for the director to hire more extras. She shifted in her robes, uncomfortable. "This thing is worse than a corset."

Dahlia gave Maya her sweetest faux smile, already slipping back into character as the crew reset the scene. "Welcome to my world."

The director clears his throat once to get their attention, then nods. "All right, folks, let's take it from the top. Dahlia, let's try taking it a little quieter this time, no screaming, just cold and dangerous."

Dahlia blows him a playful kiss as she takes up her spot again. "I think I may fall in love with you, my dear director."

"In that case, filming may be cut short due a gruesome murder-suicide," Edgeworth deadpans back, doing the same.

Phoenix sighs. "Act now, banter later, please. And the next time you guys have sex in your trailer, for God's sake _lock the door_ first. Or at least leave a sign on the door or something."

* * *

_Unnecessarily Long and Tiresome Authoress' Notes:_  
This may be continued with other characters.


	16. Unfriendly Fire

Title: Unfriendly Fire  
Request: What if Edgeworth was roughed up in the detention center?  
Warnings: None  
Original Link: teagueful./38756.html?thread12600164#t12600164  


* * *

When he didn't remove his jacket as fast as they liked, they finished the job for him, and he heard the sleeve rip.

"Whoops," he heard one of them comment, "guess that one's coming out of our paychecks, eh, _Prosecutor_?"

When he didn't dignify them with a response, his face was pushed against the wall hard enough to hurt, but not enough to leave a bruise--they were experts in not leaving behind evidence of this sort, after all. A baton tapped the back of his leg, close--but again, not _too_ close--to his buttocks. "All right, pretty boy, spread'em."

They took their time patting him down despite knowing his distaste for guns. He was even known for showing up at not-yet-cleared crime scenes empty handed, taking a dismissive once-over, and docking the lead detective's paycheck for neglecting some piddling detail or another--Gumshoe suffered the worst, but just about every cop had crossed Edgeworth one way or another.

Now it was their turn.

They shoved him into the chair and angled the light so it shone straight into his eyes.

"You know how this works by now, don't you?" The officer closest to him cracked his knuckles. "Unfortunately for you, our 'Good Cop' had to go on vacation, so all you get is 'Bad Cop' and '_Worse_ Cop'."

He remained silent. He knew his rights, even if he wasn't interested in invoking them for the moment.

The door opened behind him, and all he needed was the collective reaction of the room to know who had just entered.

"Do you jokers really think you'll get Worthy-boy to talk this way, or are you just getting back at him for expecting you to _do your jobs_?" He could almost _hear_ Gant smile as the room emptied. "Thank you. Now go get yourselves some coffee or something."

* * *

Gant wondered how long it would take before Worthy-boy's calm outer facade cracked; despite the so-called "Demon Prosecutor's" reputation for having ice water in his veins, the boy's gruff exterior was a paper-thin mask for emotions so tumultuous Gant often found himself wondering why the lad hadn't yet gone postal--or maybe he did, and this was the aftermath.

He sat down across from Worthy-boy, threading his fingers in front of his face and tilting his head just far enough forward so that his eyes peered directly at the other man. "Do I even want to know how you ended up in this situation?"

"I--" Worthy-boy managed to hold the gaze, but he did blink a fraction faster than he did before. Then he set his jaw, resolute. "It no longer matters."

Gant clicked his tongue. "What is it that my boys like to say? Oh, yes, 'throw me a bone here, pal'. How am I supposed to know how much I need to clean up after you if you just sit there?"

The tiniest flush of red colored Worthy-boy's cheeks, and Gant could almost see him force down the words perched at the edge of his lips. "If I'm going to be discussing anything, it certainly won't be with you."

"Who else are you going to talk to, then? I haven't heard you ask for a lawyer yet." Gant pushed the glasses to the top of his nose now. "You're far too calm, Worthy-boy, and I don't like it one bit."

Worthy-boy did not waver. "I am prepared to accept my fate, regardless of what happens."

"Really, Worthy-boy?" Gant moved his hands so Worthy-boy could see the predatory grin. "Tell me, have you gotten over your debilitating fear of small, dark spaces yet?" Then he rose to his feet, towering over him. "And you wouldn't even be able to claim 'duress', either, because I wouldn't leave a mark on you and you know all of those boys out there are going to back me up."

The flinch is visible, but Worthy-boy redeemed himself by not looking away. "Do your worst."

* * *

Unnecessarily Long and Tiresome Authoress' Notes:  
Stopping here a cliffhanger because I couldn't decide what to do. I also kept what Gant thought of Edgeworth ambiguous--this scene could be read either way, IMHO. Maybe I'll leave it as a Lady-or-Tiger style ending. 


	17. Perfection of a Different Sort

Title: Perfection of a Different Sort  
Request: Von Karma falls in love with the perfect Mary Sue.  
Warnings: None  
Original Link: teagueful./38756.html?thread12883044#t12883044

* * *

She was a defense lawyer, she dyed her hair in the most atrocious neon blue shade imaginable in a laughable attempt to look "hip" or whatever, and her view of the world was so naive that he was surprised she had not ended up murdered in an alleyway somewhere. That she was a woman, with the worst examples of the female race on display whenever she showed up in court, went without saying.

He could not take his eyes off of her.

And despite how much he told himself his attraction to her was irrational, he kept coming up with excuses to be around her: watching her from the gallery to watch her flounder about and muddle through another case via bluffling, bullying, or blind luck; accosting her in the hallway to argue legal minutae or use oblique words to insult her, though more often than not she matched his pace; running into her "by coincidence" elsewhere, to the point that she teased him about needing a restraining order.

He was not sure how she became his shadow, or when he stopped contradicting her whenever she claimed they were dating, or why he felt it necessary to marry her in the proper fashion--the ring had become a mere formality at this point, as they were already raising a daughter together. He could not put his feelings for her to words; he was by no means "in love" like some giggling school boy, but he was never given to intense emotions of anything besides perhaps annoyance at how inferior the rest of the world was, and though they had their moments of passion their relationship was far beyond physical need. Being with her had become as natural as breathing, and despite her many apparent faults she never offended his sensibilities.

A month after he buried her, he took then two-year-old Franziska to the stylist and demanded that her hair be kept the exact same shade of blue as his wife did and for a while, that was enough to placate the inexplicable ache he felt somewhere he could not quite place. When that failed to keep him from exploding into bouts of rage so frightening his other children chose to move out, he threw himself into work.

Then, on the anniversary of her death, a certain Gregory Edgeworth dared to defy him in open court, and the rest is history.

* * *

_Unnecessarily Long and Tiresome Authoress' Notes:_  
Well, hey, canon is vague about what Mrs. von Wifey was like.


	18. Empty Chairs and Empty Tables

Title: Empty Chairs and Empty Tables  
Request: Edgeworth's disappearance post 1-5 from Gumshoe's point of view.  
Warnings: None.  
Original Link: teagueful./38756.html?thread12887396#t12887396

* * *

He is the first one to find the note, the sole thing out of place in Mr. Edgeworth's otherwise immaculate office. He shows it to Mr. Wright, hoping to God that Mr. Edgeworth is being figurative. Mr. Wright smiles and lies through his teeth that he is sure Mr. Edgeworth will show up again someday with that "insufferable smirk of his", and everything will be all right again, and he pretends to agree, but his heart's not in his cheeky grin and he hopes Mr. Wright doesn't notice.

He rushes to Mr. Edgeworth's apartment as soon as his shift ends, almost bursting down the door before remembering to ask the landlord to give him a hand. He finds it just as spottless as Mr. Edgeworth's office, and feels his heart skip when he realizes that Mr. Edgeworth's beautiful dog is nowhere to be seen. Upon a more thorough search, the pet carrier is added to the list of missing items, and he dares to believe that maybe, just maybe, Mr. Edgeworth was coming back.

He keeps Mr. Edgeworth's office spotless, knocking on the door every time and letting himself in slow and easy even though there is no Mr. Edgeworth to yell at him that there is more important work than dusting to be done. At first, he makes a bigger mess of things, but as time passes he learns to navigate the area without knocking things over. He even puzzles out Mr. Edgeworth's filing system and delivers all of Ms. von Karma's finished cases as soon as court adjurns.

He still showers confetti on Mr. Wright at the end of every case he takes, but during the trial his eyes are no longer on the court proceedings but fixed in the gallery, scanning the faces for any sign of Mr. Edgeworth. He goes to every crime scene, hoping to hear Mr. Edgeworth's voice, even if it's to dock his pay for the latest infraction, real or imagined. He keeps an extra umbrella tucked under his arm whenver it rains, becase Mr. Edgeworth always forgets his, and even the slightest bit of water would ruin that beautiful suit. The tiniest tremor puts him in a panic, looking in every corner and under every desk he can find to see if there is a familiar form huddled there, trembling.

He leaves long, rambling messages on Mr. Edgeworth's cell phone, telling him how everybody is doing. He writes much of the same to the address Ms. von Karma provides for him, and he also sends along many, many pictures. And though the calls are never returned and the letters sit in a pile unopened--he knows this because Ms. von Karma keeps in contact with her family in Germany and no one comes to claim the envelopes marked for Mr. Edgeworth--he never gives up, never stops trying.

The days stretch into weeks, and then months. He cleans, and files, and watches, and calls, and writes, and waits. And waits.

And waits.


	19. Endless Waltz

Title: Endless Waltz  
Request: von Karma teaches Edgeworth how to dance.  
Warnings: None  
Original Link: teagueful./41371.html?thread3D15298971#t15298971****

-- --

Head up. One hand on the small of the waist. Take your partner's hand with the other.

Now, lead.

Larger steps. You are in no danger of mashing on toes.

Turn--easy--easy--stop looking at your feet. Signal your movements with your hips and your partner will follow you just fine.

Keep your arm steady during the twirl. Pull back--be more assertive! Stop acting like you aredancing with a porcelain doll.

Better. Once more around the room.

Excellent bow, from the waist just like I taught you. Good to see something is sticking.

Your form still needs work, but at least now you will not make a complete fool of yourself.

I will have a tailor come in later to have you measured.

Of course you are getting your own suit. No one in this house wears hand-me-downs.

Do you want lunch brought to your room, or will you be eating with us today?

Alright. I will tell the maid.

_Ten Years Later_

"Ow, Nick!" Maya hissed, biting her lip to keep a straight face.

"Sorry!" Phoenix slowed down, casting side glances every few moments. "I've never learned to dance before."

"Well, neither have I, but I don't have two left feet, either!" Maya sighed, casting an envious glance at Edgeworth and Franziska, who were gliding around the floor with such grace that they looked like they were flying. "They're so beautiful, like a prince and a princess."

Phoenix made a face. "Well, _excuuuuuse_ me for not being all refined and frilly."

The next time they turned, Maya gave Phoenix a not-so-subtle kick in the shins. "Next time, ask one of them to teach you! It wouldn't kill you to ask for help every once in a while."

"I'll keep that in mind the next time the King of some tiny landlocked European country I've never heard of comes to town and holds a social that I get invited to on the basis of my so-called 'relationship' with a certain stuffy prosecutor."

"Excellent," Edgeworth remarked from over Phoenix's shoulder. "I will be sure to pass my glowing recommendations along to my acquaintances in high society."

"We shall make you the toast of the town," Franziska added, smirking as she twirled past Maya.

Phoenix saved his comments until he was sure that the two prosecutors were out of earshot. "They're going to death of me, I just know it."

Maya giggled. "Don't be such a fuddy duddy, Phoenix! You could use a little bit of refinement, too." 


	20. You Do Not Own a Cat

Title: You Do Not Own a Cat; The Cat Owns You  
Request: Franziska adopts Shoe; fluffy adorableness ensues.  
Warnings: None.  
Original Link: .?thread=18788145#t18788145

It had all happened so fast: in the rush after the trial, Franziska remembered making some vague-promises, and the day after that, she found Adrian Andrews' things sitting on her doorstep along with a wide-eyed little ball of fur.

She stared at it. "So you are...Shoe," she stated, feeling foolish for talking to a cat.

But then the cat made a tiny, pitiful sound and all she wants to do was hold it in her arms and tell it that everything will be all right.

---

Andrews' other belongings were placed into storage, but Shoe got the best corner in her apartment, with easy access to the window. Franziska was going to buy him a top of the line bed as well, but when she saw him napping in the old towels Andrews had sacrificed for him, one paw over his face like he was embarrassed, she no longer had the heart to throw those away no matter how dirty or matted they got.

She did, however, end up buying a camera to document all of his poses. Even while sleeping his body would end up in all sorts of amusing shapes. He lapped up the attention with the same intensity he did his food, and once he became acclimated to his new surroundings would get downright shameless about showing off.

Before she had realized it she was spending less and less time at the office and more and more of it at home, watching Shoe out of the corner of her eye as she breezed through the paperwork. Shoe, for his part, became convinced that the space beneath her desk was some sort of portal to another world and was obsessed with darting in and out of it, brushing by her legs and chirping greetings at her whenever she looked to see what he was up to this time.

One of those times she caught him staring at her, as if he were planning something. Then he made an impressive leap into her lap and trotted about as if he belonged there, nuzzling her hand as he settled into a spiral and began to purr. This arrangement seemed to please him for a few weeks until he discovered that he could make the top of her desk as long as he sized up the distance right and prepared himself. Franziska could no longer finish even one case without Shoe interposing himself into her field of vision and demand that he be petted. At about the same time he figured out the purpose of the door and would sit in front of it waiting for Franziska to come home, greeting her with a happy meow.

And then Adrian Andrews was released from prison.

---

Franziska did not know why she would ask Andrews over to her house, but the invitation had already been extended and accepted, and the woman herself was already sitting down on the couch. So she swallowed her pride and offered Andrews some tea.

"No, thank you. I just wanted to check on Shoe." She glanced at the cat in question, and smiled when she saw that he was cleaning himself on the windowsill. "And I guess I shouldn't have been worried. Thank you."

"For what?" Franziska wanted to know, unable to take her eyes off of Andrews. Free from the shadow of her mentor's death, Andrews was now a different person altogether: more open, more vulnerable. More...cute, even.

"For taking care of Shoe." Her thin, delicate hands clenched in her lap. "And giving him a place to belong."

"And what makes you think that you do not have a place here?" Franziska blurted without a second thought.

Andrews blushed a luminescent shade of pink that made her all the more attractive. "I-I couldn't!"

"Why not? You have nowhere else to go, do you not?" Fransizka sat down next to Andrews, and a moment later Shoe joined her. "And I am sure Shoe misses you."

---  
_Unnecessarily Long And Tiresome Authoress' Notes:_  
Uh...that's about it for now.


	21. In Japan, It's Called Idiot Hair

Title: In Japan, It's Called Idiot Hair  
Request: Pondering the nature of Edgeworth's persistent cowlick.  
Warnings: (Very) Implied Phoenix/Edgeworth.  
Original Link: .?thread=18810673#t18810673

Edgeworth swatted away Phoenix's hand again, the other man having do so enough times for him to lose count. "Will you stop that already?"

"But it's so cute!" Phoenix petted the recalcitrant strand and smiled even wider when he saw that it still popped right back up. "It's like a tiny little antenna or something."

Edgeworth rolled his eyes. "Congratulations. You have exposed me for the extraterrestrial that I really am." He wrestled out of Phoenix's grasp and headed for the kitchen to pour himself another cup of tea. "Now leave me alone before the Mother Ship tells me to disintegrate you to keep the secret safe."

Phoenix just kept smirking. "In that case, beam me up," he crooned, with quite the unsubtle hip-thrust at the word 'up'.

Edgeworth was not amused. "Congratulations, you have earned yourself another night on the couch. Alone."

Phoenix blinked, startled, and then deflated when he realized that Edgeworth was being serious. "Geez, Edgeworth. I was just kidding."

"You may want to consider the consequences of your frivolity next time," Edgeworth answered back, sipping from his mug.


	22. Taken Down a Notch

Title: Taken Down a Notch  
Request: The worst pickup line ever.  
Warnings: Groin shot.  
Original Link: .?thread=18810929#t18810929  


* * *

The nerve of that--that--a million and more insults flitted through Franziska's mind, and when she could not settle on one she decided to seethe in silence.

Refer to her as a "wild filly", would he? Then she would teach that Godot that she was not to be trifled with.

"I cannot believe someone like him could even exist in his day and age!" She was ranting out loud now, but she did not care. Let him hear and tremble at her wrath! "I would be willing to bet that he even thinks women should 'stay in the kitchen', or whatever it is those stupid caricatures for masculinity think is supposed to be the right order of the universe!"

"You're right," a smooth voice purred into her ear. "You don't belong in the kitchen." A pair of rough hands circled around her waist. "You belong in my bed."

Fraziska's response was to spin around and punch the man in the privates.

"It is hardly your _place_ to dictate where I belong, fool," she declared as he wheezed in pain. She wondered if she should also whip him for good measure, but he seemed to have gotten the point well enough.

Besides, he might even be the kind of degenerate into that sort of thing.

* * *

_Unnecessarily Long and Tiresome Authoress' Notes:_  
Sorry about the grievous bodily harm to Godot there, but he could use a little humbling given all the delicious sex he gets everywhere else in the meme.


	23. Not So Old Shame

Title: Not So Old Shame Request: Edgeworth, who isn't in a relationship and hasn't even had any sex, writes explicit stories for the Steel Samurai Kink Meme, and Maya (without him realizing it) is his #1 fan.  
Warnings: None Original Link: .?thread=19553658#t19553658 -

* * *

It had begun as a harmless-or so he thought-aside to the parade of paperwork he had to contend with on a day-to-day basis. The Steel Samurai was one of the few indulgences he allowed himself, so he was not surprised to find his thoughts drifting towards that direction whenever he was not otherwise occupied with the minutiae of law. To keep his mind from obsessing with what amounted to a children's television program, he would jot his ideas down scraps of paper, graduating to typing them on his new computer once one had been installed into his office.

Except the ideas kept inundating him and before he realized it he had a good forty, maybe even fifty stories under his belt. He let this fact slip in his correspondence to the online fan-supported unofficial mailing list that he subscribed to for the latest news, and his inbox was soon stuffed to the brim with requests to see his work. It took a considerable amount of pleading and prodding, but he began publishing his stories over the internet under the pseudonym he was using for that mailing list.

"Reiji Mitsurugi"-according to the dictionaries he consulted, this meant something to the effect of "Merciful Samurai With a Royal Blade"-was far from the biggest name in fandom, but he had a handful of fans who recommended him everywhere they went, and he was at least not unheard of among the major fan circles. Even after he took an extended period of leave due to the emotional fallout around State V. Edgeworth and State v. Skye, his return to writing was welcomed with open arms by a whole new group of fans who had discovered him in his absence and almost despaired of the possibility that he would never publish again.

It was during his trip to Europe that he discovered, almost by accident, the Steel Samurai Kink Meme. He had been looking to join new Steel Samurai fan communities and was following a trail of links when he stumbled into Part Five. He skimmed through the requests and fills, bookmarking the ones that he felt were good enough for repeated reading, but was not inspired to write anything until he came across a timid request for one of the less popular pairings. When clicking through the replies revealed that all of the comments were just mean-spirited jabs, Edgeworth found himself rolling up his sleeves and typing away:

"Have any of you ever heard of something called 'reading comprehension'? This is a KINK MEME. Nobody is putting a gun to your head and making you reply to pairings you have no interest in. Leave commenting space to the people who want to make the fills."

After that initial disclaimer, he dove right into writing the story that had been percolating in his head about that pairing. An hour later, the story had gotten to be fifteen parts long and he still felt like he could keep going, except he had an appointment to keep and so he left a note on his last part before hurrying out the door.

Maya fired up Nick's computer, tapping her toes as she waited for the ancient machine to load. When it did, she went to her first bookmark, hoping despite all indications that maybe this time someone filled her request instead of complaining for the eleventy-billionth time how her OTP was stupid.

She was rewarded with the glorious sight of a chain-response that promised an epic read. Clicking on the first link, she dove straight in and found herself immersed in the epic love saga that could have been an OVA straight out of the series itself. She blew through each part in record time, her enthusiasm increasing until she got to the last one:

"I have to step away from my office for a few hours. I will get back to this as soon as I can. (Goodness, when the writing bug bites it bites hard.)"

Maya fired off an enthusiastic encouragement to continue writing, and then proceeded to reload the page every few minutes to see if her mystery benefactor had indeed lived up to his promise.

Her persistence was rewarded when she sat down to eat dinner (still parked, of course, in front of the monitor) and found a new reply:

"Sorry for the delay. I was held up in a meeting with a client. (Insert lawyer joke here.)

Onwards and upwards! I feel bad for the trees that have to die should anyone attempt to print this out..."

Edgeworth spent the rest of the evening living up to his promise, and from then on, he was hooked, returning to the levels of output he had maintained as a prosecutor. At first he stuck to generic and fluff fills, keeping the sex implied and with minimal detail, but as he grew more familiar with the seedy underside of fan fiction he began to imitate the better examples of smut he had come across. Nevertheless, he kept most of his focus on the characterizations, hoping that the strong storytelling aspects could carry a reader through without raising too many questions on how much first-hand experience he had with sex (that is, none save for the tongue-in-cheek "dates" with his hand). When the community crashed for a few hours due to the strain on the server, Edgeworth decided to publish his works on the other online repositories that he kept so that they would not be lost forever should anything happen. This brought another fresh influx of fans once word got out that Reiji Mitsurugi was among the legions of anonymous. As before, waves of emails poured in, most of which he deleted after a cursory glance.

On this particular day the last letter he was yet to clear out gave him slight pause:

"OMG SQUEE! YOU'RE the one who did that EPIC fill for Pink Princess x Ninja Butterfly back on Part Five? I'm the OP, and I'm so glad I'm not the only PrinNin (hee!) fan out there-all the better since you're totally my favorite author!  
Are you by any chance attending SamuraiCon again this year? Your yearly con reports are my motivation to cut back on burgers to save up and attend someday! (BTW, I might be able to afford going this year, maybe-it'd be SO awesome if we could meet up or something!)"

He sent off a brief response and thought nothing of it until she wrote back not five minutes later:

" I'm the OP, and I'm so glad I'm not the only PrinNin (hee!) fan out there

Indeed. Is not the whole point of fan fiction to speculate on things the writers themselves leave blank?

Oh, TOTALLY! Evil Magistrate/Steel Samurai/Pink Princess is pretty much the canon OT3. Where's the love for thinking outside the box?

-all the better since you're totally my favorite author!

Thank you, but have you read Lady Penelope's works? She is one of the rare few that actually deserve her reputation, and does not have a swelled head about it.

Oh, yeah! I love her, too. Guess that means you're demoted. :)

Are you by any chance attending SamuraiCon again this year?

I doubt it. I am living in Europe for the time being, and I am not sure whether or not I would have the time to make the trip.  
I am also undecided about whether to go in the first place.

I hope you go. I'll be there as Lady Butterfly (probably the only one *sadfaces again*). If I get any pictures of me taken I'll try to get a copy so I can show off my awesome cosplay (yay for friends who can sew! 3 3 3)."

"I am sure your costume will look fantastic. If I do decide to attend the Con, I will announce it on the Fans of Steel mailing list-but otherwise, I hope you have a great time."

Maya printed out the email for posterity and hugged it to her chest. Reiji Mitsurugi was corresponding with her! And he was so polite and nice, even though she was sure she came off sounding dumb. But she couldn't help gushing, not even now when she was rereading their letters. Her favorite (all right, second-favorite, to be technical) fanfic writer was now her pen pal! It was like a dream come true.

The deadline to sign up for Samurai Con came and went, but Edgeworth still could not bring himself to revisit the city that held so many painful memories. So he threw himself into writing; by now most of his time was spend browsing the kink meme.

He had just about forgotten about Samurai Con when he got an email from his self-proclaimed number one fan:

"Too bad you couldn't make it. The Con was awesome! I'll give you the rundown if you want, but I'm sure you'll be reading the other Con reports on the mailing list, too.

Nick, the cheapskate, went and bought a disposable camera, so I haven't been able to get the pictures developed and scanned until now.

Here they are. Aren't I the cutest? :3"

The mild sinking sensation in the pit of Edgeworth's stomach upgraded to a full-grade black hole when he saw the pictures.

It was official. The universe hated him.

What was he going to do now? Though he always deflected any questions about his true identity, it would be just about impossible to not give himself away to Maya if they continued to keep in touch-she had a way of worming the truth out of anyone, and never gave up no matter what.

Politeness demanded at least a cursory response, so he sent one off and crossed his fingers, hoping that he would remain nothing more than a distant, faceless stranger.

Maya spotted Mr. Edgeworth as he was attempting to slip out unnoticed in the post-trial rush while the media was focused on Iris and Mr. Armando. As Nick was too busy making puppy eyes at Iris, she ditched him and made a beeline for Mr. Edgeworth herself, not calling out to him until they had reached the relative privacy of the parking garage. "Mr. Edgeworth! Wait!"

He paused and stared at her, as if he was not expecting this at all. "Yes?"

Without hesitation, Maya blurted out the first thing she could think of: "I know this great burger joint down the street. Come on! My treat."

He blinked with surprise before his gaze softened and he broke out in one of his few rare smiles. "I would be honored."

As he expected, Edgeworth spent the entire afternoon with Maya, the talkative girl going what seemed like a mile a minute between bites of burger while she updated him on every detail of Wright's life, and interrogating him on his. He managed to keep most of his answers vague, although she did worm out of him that he was still single and not looking.

"No way! Didn't you, like, have a million fangirls? Nick even thought you had groupies."

Edgeworth shook his head. "Call me old fashioned, but I would prefer a slower courtship should I ever decide to find a companion."

"Well, you should!" Maya declared. "I mean, even Nick has me, even if I'm not his girlfriend."

What sort of odd logic is that? Edgeworth had to wonder. "Perhaps."

Maya glanced up at the clock. "Oh, I'm so sorry for keeping you so long! Did I make you miss your flight?"

"No worries. I arrived via a private carrier." Edgeworth smirked at her. "You are free to talk my ear off for as long as you wish."

Maya flushed pink for a moment, pouting. "But I should get going, too. Nick's probably wondering what I'm up to. That, and I haven't had a chance to check the Steel Samurai Kink Meme since I went back to Kurain for special training." She clapped her hands together, a glittery look in her eyes. "I can't wait to see if Reiji-sama has made any new fills!"

"Reiji-'sama'?" Edgeworth repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Reiji Mitsurugi, this guy who writes Steel Samurai 'fics," Maya explained. "He's not Big Name famous yet, but he's really good and ooh, he writes the best porn ever!" She blushed again. "Uh, take my word for it, if that's not your kind of thing."

There was no avoiding it, it seemed. He bit his lip, wrestling with his thoughts for a moment longer before he decided to drop the proverbial bomb: "Actually, Maya...Reiji Mitsurugi is a pen name." He paused, waiting for her to give him his full attention.

She did, of course. "You mean you know him IRL?" she squealed, her voice almost rising a full octave.

Edgeworth, for his part, was starting to wish that the earth could swallow him up right then and there. "I _am_ him."

Maya was about to ask Mr. Edgeworth if he were joking, but he didn't seem to be the type to be kidding and he looked so serious about this that Maya wasn't sure how to feel. One one hand, she wanted to shout to the world that she was RL friends with Reiji Mitsurugi, her second favorite writer.

On the other, she couldn't stop thinking that _Mr. Edgeworth writes porn!_

"B-but-you don't even have a girlfriend! You said so yourself! How do you even know how to write about-" She couldn't bring herself to continue, because she couldn't imagine Mr. Edgeworth having sex with anybody.

Mr. Edgeworth looked even more embarrassed, if that was possible. "You are not the only one who reads explicit fan fiction or collects adult doujinshi."

Maya felt as if she was about to faint. The mental image of Mr. Edgeworth holed up under his blanket with a flashlight reading Evil Magistrate x Steel Samurai doujin and consulting a Japanese/English dictionary to translate the dialogue was, all potential ridiculousness aside, so plausible she could almost see it.

Mr. Edgeworth sighed. "At least try not to tell anyone other than Wright, would you? The public does not need to know that the former 'Demon Prosecutor' is a purveyor of smut."

That snapped her out of it. "Oh, no, I'd never tell a soul, Mr. Edgeworth! Your secret's safe with me, I promise!"

Despite Edgeworth's fear that Maya would blab his secret all over the internet, she did keep her promise. Meanwhile, though, his writing suffered due to a combination of worry-an irrational, but understandable, sentiment given how much the press loved to titillate-and awkwardness. His audience was no longer a faceless, vague Other; Maya, of all people, was one of those who read his works.

(Perhaps she even-perish the thought-pleasured herself to his more explicit stories the same way he would while reviewing his favorite bits of pornography.)

Still, she remained a faithful fan-if anything, she toned down her gushing in her writing, and kept on encouraging him while the other fans just got more rude and demanding. When he went on full hiatus so he could focus on surreptitious investigations into Phoenix's disbarment, the internet just about exploded with entitlement outrage.

"Can you believe this wank?" Maya asked, browsing the internet in between helping Edgeworth pick through case files. "Don't they realize what assholes they're being?"

"Forget it, Maya. Let them scream and shake their tiny little fists all they want. Sooner or later they'll find something else to latch onto and forget I ever even existed."

She gave him a shy glance. "If it makes you feel better...you'll always be my favorite author."

He smiled back. "You mean second favorite."

* * *

_Unnecessarily Long and Tiresome Authoress' Notes:_  
Uh...and I'm kind of hitting a writer's block on this one. Anybody else can take this headcanon and run with it if they so wish.


	24. Marry Me, Like, For Serious

Title: Marry Me. Like, For Serious.  
Request: None (misplaced comment).  
Warnings: None.  
Original Link: .?thread=19626618#t19626618

* * *

Phoenix rolled his eyes. "For crying out loud, Larry, can't you fanboy like a regular person? How many internet wives do you have now?"

"I'm serious this time!" Larry declared. "This is the most awesome thing that has ever been awesomed. I love it!"

Phoenix wanted to find a wall and bang his head into it, von Karma style. "It's just the Steel Samurai Kink Meme."

"So? It's still awesome!" Larry clapped Phoenix on the shoulder, hard. "And you're awesome for telling me about it! But since I don't want to marry you, let's just settle for being best friends forever, okay?"

_With friends like this, who needs enemies?_ Phoenix had to wonder.


	25. Two Minute Notice

Title: Two-Minute Notice  
Request: None (misplaced comment).  
Warnings: None.  
Original Link: .?thread=19843450#t19843450

* * *

Zak clapped Kristoph on the back, still beaming with that infernal grin. "A promise is a promise, Gavin. It's been nice knowing you!"

"You. Are. Firing. Me." Kristoph repeated one word at a time, keeping his voice even to keep his growing rage under control. "Over. A. Card. Game?"

"You lost fair and square," Zak pointed out. "You might be a good lawyer, but you're terrible at cards, and I'm afraid I can't trust my future to someone wish such an awful power face." He turned to leave. "You can keep my case file--think of it as a souvenir!"

Kristoph seethed, imagining a million other much better trophies that he could take.


End file.
